


The First Question.

by eternaluniverse



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (kind of), Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Past Lives, Regeneration (Doctor Who), the timless child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaluniverse/pseuds/eternaluniverse
Summary: Buried behind many, many shields memories of past lives are hidden in the Doctor’s mind. She never wants to remember them, but to her misfortune the guards in the prison have other ideas.In a way the Doctor dies.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	The First Question.

**Author's Note:**

> This is dark. 
> 
> I started playing with the concept of the timeless child and to many memories to bear, and that’s what happened.  
> At least it brought me out of my writer’s block :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The Doctor feels alone. She feels helpless.

She doesn’t fight the guards that hold her down and tie her to the table even though she’s terrified. She doesn’t _know_ the answer to their question. How can the Doctor possible tell them something a stranger experienced?

“You’ve the wrong person!”

The Doctor tries for the thirteenth time that day, her voice shakier than expected. The guard just grunts and fastens the mind probe on her head.

She closes her eyes, forces herself to calm down.

This primitive thing can’t hurt her! She’s done it times and times before!

Except, that this is Shada.

And the sight of the mind probe tightens her throat. She knows that kind of machinery. Time Lord technic.

The Doctor is doomed.

They start the machine. First barely noticeable, banging in the inside of her head, searching through her mind and then the questions follow. Again and again. 

Questions she still doesn’t know an answer to. Questions, that claim she’s a cold-blooded murderer.

And that’s just the start. The Doctor lays there, suppressing her tears, wondering what kind of monster the stranger in her past must be to murder someone cruelty.

She thinks of Gallifrey. Of the Master. Of the memories he’s shown her in the Matrix.

The Timeless Child.

The Doctor should pity that child, but instead all she feels is hatred.

“Ow! That hurt!”

But the questions go on and the pain gets worse and the Doctor tries everything to convince them, that she doesn’t _know_ a thing! Eventual she starts lying just to stop the pain in her head.

Days go by and little breaks.

The Doctor starts to lose herself in the pain in her head. Like a knife that drives through her skull, digging deeper and deeper, searching for memories she doesn’t have.

Until, one day, they go too far.

The Doctor realises that something is wrong, when the young guard that controls the machine nervously looks at the floor, hands shaking.

The Doctor closes her eyes, accept the unavoidable. Maybe she’s going to die today. Maybe she doesn’t even regenerate with a machinery that deep in her mind.

She realises, that she doesn’t care. It feels like a shock. She’s _the Doctor_. But the Doctor is tired of fighting.

For what. For a life that isn’t hers?

Funnily enough her last consciousness thoughts are about the Master. Not even him as Koschei. But the Master in his purple suit and his teary eyes standing in the ruins of Gallifrey. The Doctor feels, like she should have saved him.

But it is peaceful to remember the Master while she dies because her brain gets shattered all over the place.

Except, that she doesn’t die.

The mind probe forces itself through her skull, through doors that should never be opened. Deeper and deeper until even the Doctor doesn’t recognise the parts of her brain.

But still, she stubbornly holds onto the Master’s face.

Another stab. Pain. And a door that’s forced opened and pictures that fill her head. She doesn’t have the time to hold onto the fast-moving memories in her head and it _hurts._ It hurts to much!

“No, please, stop.” Is all the Doctor can manage. “Master –“

And suddenly she doesn’t know a thing.

All she knows is, that someone is screaming. She knows the voice. It is _her_ voice.

The voice screams and screams and screams and the world ends.

And in a way, the Doctor dies.

***

They open their eyes, staring at a strangely white ceiling. A hard surface presses in their back.

Whispered voices. Head hurt.

 _Shields down_ a voice mumbles in their head. They should know that voice, it’s the same voice that leaves their mouth while their groan in pain.

But they don’t know her. She’s a stranger.

“She’s awake!”

A panicked voice says, and two persons dressed in white rush to their side.

They’re confused. Are they talking about them? How can they be a woman, when they remember all those lives, filling up their head?

Another groan. Trying to move. Straps. Panic.

They scream.

Nothing.

When they open their eyes for the next time the straps are replaced with metal, immobilising her body and their head still hurts. They feel like needles are everywhere on their body, hurting them even more, but they can’t move their head to see a thing.

A hand roughly grips their chin, bending their head even though the metal around their forehead prevents movements like that.

Crying. Begging. Muffled voices. “ – killed them!” Slap to the face.

They cry, unable to understand, what’s going on.

Panic. Voices in their head. Many, many voices. Trying to claim that body.

 _Mine!_ Someone screams in their mind. The woman with the rainbow shirt. But the others force her down, push her aside, screaming to get seen.

They panic even more.

Someone screams in horror. It’s not them?

They’re glowing golden. It feels familiar. Painful. They still smile.

Something hard hits their head.

The word goes dark but the fight in their head continues.

***

A man stands in the ruins of a planet. His hands are shaking. He did the right thing. He knows he did. But he still feels like a monster.

Someone says his name.

He turns around, smiling at the woman who stares at him with the same calmness he felt before. While he slaughtered them all.

“They killed my child.” He whispers, not even trying to defend himself. There’s no way to defend genocide.

***

_Regeneration. Murderer. Time Lord._

The words follow them while they’re wheeled through a dark floor. They don’t understand a thing. Their body didn’t change and while they know what a ‘Time Lord’ is, they can’t remember why the word frightens them so much.

They think they are a Time Lord.

Most of the voices in their head are murderers though.

Most of them despite the action.

But there’re some people, whispering threats, ordering them _to kill them all._

If they weren’t that tired, they would think about.

The guards start deliberately hurting them. They don’t know why.

They still cry, speaking in multiple languages, begging their attacker to stop.

But the pain doesn’t. But this time no questions follow. Which is odd. Because this time they know the answers.

***

He feels time running through him like blood through his body. He built this civilisation, side by side with his mother.

Tecteun stopped using his name long ago. Right after his regeneration, sheading the role of the caring mother. Now, he goes by Rassilon.

He thinks that’s a stupid name.

His mother just looked at him, like he would slap his ingrate child. And so, he accepted it, wondering why he still thinks of Rassilon as Mother in his head.

“You need a strong name!” Mother tells him.

But what’s a strong name. For now, he just goes by _the Other_ , constantly annoying his mother. It’s easier than thinking of a name while his own is hidden somewhere.

He doesn’t want a strong name. He doesn’t need a name. He just wants his peace.

But how can he find his peace, while a civilisation his build around them.

_Time Lords._

He should be proud. He made it possible, mother keeps assuring him. _You’ve done so great!_

But he still wakes up crying and screaming, thinking he’s dying, feeling the knife in his hearts.

“It’s over, it’s over!” The young man by his side assures him. “She’s not doing it again, I’m gonna stop her! Promise! Because I’m always there for you.”

But he can’t tell, if the man does actually belong there. Or if it’s his mind, trying to comfort him.

He wonders why he can still forgive his mother.

***

They don’t even try to open their eyes. If they press their eyelids together until it hurts, somehow it feels as if everything isn’t real. Just diving back into the endless void in their head, of different lives who don’t remember each other.

And countless bodies.

They wonder if every of their bodies has an own soul. But that’s a terrifying thought and they like to think, that every of their lives has an own soul.

They don’t like each other.

How can they like each other when the existence of them means the complete erasure of a previous life?

***

“How long are you going to stay with me?” He asks somehow afraid of the answer. But the girl just smiles, ignoring the gorgeous landscape in front of them, just looking at him.

“Forever.”

He feels himself smiling.

_Forever._

A man is lurking in the shadows, watching him. But somehow, he feels safe by his presence. He’s going to watch him, like he always does.

***

One day something changes. They can feel it in the nervous thoughts of the staff. Somehow the guards are excited.

They wonder why, but decide, it’s not worth to care. Nobody will tell them.

And nobody does tell them. But all at sudden they feel themselves fighting against the bonds that hold them down because they feel _the presence._ They don’t know what they’re supposed to feel.

Anger. Fear. Happiness?

But their reaction to the familiar presence scare the guards. And a sharp pain pushes them back in oblivion, barely able to notice what’s happening around them.

A familiar and yet unfamiliar voice speaks. Cold words that they can’t understand. Cool hands touch their face even though they flinch away. The voice says something.

Uneasiness. Fear.

Someone picks them up, forcing the body on its feet and they can’t hold balance, stumbling, falling. Someone catches them. Holds them. Speaks to them.

It’s not gently. But it’s familiar.

They leave the prison, following the familiar press on their minds, unsure if they can trust the person in their dreams.

Their rescuer (?) is male, they realise after a while. Somehow, they aren’t surprised. Should they? Was it even a question?

They’re more surprised, how gently he acts. Somehow, they expect him to lash out, hurt them.

He doesn’t.

Once they leave the prison, the familiar stranger picks them up from stumbling legs and carries them until they reach a room. He lays them on a bed, and they curl to their side, a position unable to reach for such a long time.

He says something but they don’t listen, only hear when he leaves the room.

***

The young man sits in the red fields, staring at the Citadel. He doesn’t even move when he hears steps approaching. Only another person knows this place.

Cool hands reach across him from behind and he turns around to kiss him on the lips.

“I’m afraid, Kos.” He whispers. “How can I possible fit in this society?”

But all he gets is another, gently kiss, so unusual for his friend.

“You don’t need to fit.” He says. “You never did. But that’s why I love you.”

***

They haven’t moved, when the man comes back. Many hours have passed, and they feel his insecurity. He isn’t supposed to feel insecure.

Carefully, he sit’s down on the edge of the bed, touching their shoulders. Something is wrong. He isn’t supposed to act like that.

They know that. They know him.

Even though they have no idea who he is.

The stranger – who isn’t a stranger at all – starts speaking in the language of the stars, a language that says _home_.

“Doctor…” He says calmly. “Say something.” They don’t react. Even though it’s a name in their head it’s not their name.

“Look at me!”

He’s getting angry now. He could never control his temper. Even when he was a little child. They start laughing and don’t even know why.

A touch and they scream, still remembering the searing pain in their head. They scream and feel the sparkling energy on their body and hear the horror in the his voice.

 _Koschei._ Someone whispers. _Koschei._

He yells their name. It almost sounds like begging. Shame, they don’t remember his words.

It takes them days to accept, that he’s the person in their memories. That’s weird, because he’s everywhere.

In _all_ their lives. Lives, that doesn’t belong to each other. But there he is. Always. Different bodies. But always the same eyes.

How can he be everywhere?

The woman with the blond bob laughs. And laughs. _Master._ Her thoughts say but they don’t listen to that bit of the Doctor’s personality.

The name pops up since they left the prison. It’s the name he calls them.

But they don’t know if it’s their name at all.

***

She feels herself shaking while she fastens the helmet on her head.

“You watch after me. You promise!” She nearly begs.

“When didn’t I?” The man asks, almost angry.

“Promise. I’m going to be a senseless _human_. Promise.”

He kisses her and holds her and she accepts her fate.

Hiding to save others. Hiding, to save herself. She feels ashamed.

She thinks she should tell him, that she loves him. But that’s not what they do. It’s a shame, really. She hopes that someday she will have the courage to tell him.

She hesitates, drawing deep breaths in.

“It feels as if I’m doing the same, they would do to me.” She protests, not brave enough to accepts her destiny.

But he shakes his head.

“No, Doctor. You’re going to sleep. But I can wake you. If the Time Lords get their hands on you, I don’t know if enough of you will be left, when they’re finished with your mind.”

She swallows hard.

“I’m egoistic. Always.” She can see the pain in his eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbles, presses the button and her world explodes in pain until nothing of her is left.

***

They remember their children. So many grieving parents, howling in anger, hating the other for insisting, _their_ children are real.

But they think it’s only natural. How can they accept the death of families they don’t remember? Families, that aren’t theirs.

At least they can accept their feelings for one person. That person that’s holding their trembling body in his arms. Now, they only need to reach an agreement what they want to feel for him.

“You need to rebuild your shields again.” The man explains calmly to them.

They don’t know how to do that. It’s not that they don’t know the tactics but building up their shields means burying past memories that were never meant to surface again. But they don’t remember which of their memories are the right ones.

“Doctor. I know it’s hard, but you need to do it!”

He tries to touch their temples and they feel themselves hissing at him, crawling away until they reach a wall.

“I don’t want to hurt you!”

 _Liar!_ Voices laugh in their head. They would love to say it to him in the face, but they stopped talking long ago.

***

“What’s she doing to you?” Her only friend whispers in the darkness of the room.

It took him a while to break the lock to her room and she stared at him, hiding under a blanket, afraid of his reaction.

But it turned out he only curiously looked at her new face.

“Aren’t you afraid?” She had asked calmy. His answer reminded her, that even though he pushed her down that cliff, he truly is her friend: “Why should I? I can feel it’s you.”

But now his eyes are dark. “What’s she doing to you?” He repeats, his voice is getting louder.

“Sssshh! Or we’re never going to see each other again!”

“But what’s she’s doing to you?”

Because clearly, he can see the bruises on her arms and the way she needs to lean on him to stay on her feet. She doesn’t tell him about the wound in her abdomen but she’s sure he can guess it.

“Don’t worry. She’s only doing what’s necessary.” She repeats the words Tecte – no, her mother – repeatedly told her. “We’re going to build an eternal empire.”

But her friend’s eyes only get darker. He’s only a child and yet she truly believes his words.

“I’m going to kill her!”

***

“That’s not what I wanted.” The man tells them one evening while he carefully brushes their hair. “I thought, that’s what I wanted, but I was… wrong.” He stutters, his voice suddenly barely audible.

“Doctor…” Again, this name that should mean something but only pains their head.

“Doctor. I’m sorry.”

They fall asleep shortly after, still wondering, why they can’t stop crying.

“Let me help you!” He whispers, still holding them close and they think, that it’s wrong. He shouldn’t say that. It should be them who say that!

Somehow, he seems to know that too, making a face as if he would vomit every moment.

“Seriously, Doctor!” And then he’s laughing and they’re laughing with him and suddenly it nearly feels as if they’re back in – the stabbing pain is back in their head and they’re screaming and screaming and… and…

“Once upon a time, there was a boy called Theta Sigma. Of course, that wasn’t really his name, but he had chosen it, when he was only a few years old, even before the Academy.

The others of his house thought, he was weird.

But the truth was, that he was only really clever. Not that he ever believed it himself. He dreamed of different worlds and different languages and different people. Nobody ever understood him. Not even his brother.

Not until he was forced to look into the Untempered Schism and saw Eternity. It scared him to death, and he ran and ran, terrified of time itself. But that’s how he met his best friend.

He had also seen Eternity with himself in the centre of _everything_ , but was too afraid to run away, punished with the never-ending drums. And while everyone thought he went mad Theta believed him. And for a while everything was alright.

For a while it felt, as if nothing could stop them.”

He never says the name of Theta’s best friend, but they start to remember anyway.

Koschei.

They know it’s Koschei who cares for them, telling them the story of their life.

One of many lives, but somehow their life.

Koschei is the boy in their head. Not always a boy. Often a girl with a smug grin, a woman with the eyes of a manic god, the man who they adore for his beard.

It’s weird, these are the things they remember about him. He’s everywhere and everyone. He gives them comfort.

They love him.

And even though there are too many different emotions about him, emotions that could push some over the edge and kill him, they still love him.

That’s the only constant in their live and they don’t even know if it’s true.

***

“Are you sure?” The boy, barely more than a child, asks quietly. “Are you sure, Theta?”

But of course, he’s sure! “Yes!” He whispers, guiding their bodies even closer together.

Their fingers lace together while their foreheads touch.

“We won’t be able to control it, you know?”

But he doesn’t care. “I don’t have any secrets you don’t already know.” He grins. “Afraid Koschei?”

But his friend shakes his head. “I just don’t want to hurt you. The drums –“

He kisses him before he can go on. _Maybe I can help you, when I finally hear them, too._ He whispers in his mind, hoping that his friend can hear the words.

He thinks he does hear them, because he finally opens the last walls shielding his mind and lets him in until the two boys don’t know which thought belongs to whom.

It feels like peace.

***

He helps with words and gently nudges against their mind, but never intruding.

The chaos starts to subside, and all the memories slowly make sense again. They still don’t know who they are, but they remember what they are.

They start to accept that even though they can’t actually remember living though their memories, it’s theirs. They all belong to them.

And now they need to let go.

At one point they can accept, that the woman who watches the chaos with swollen eyes, is the only one of them who actually belongs in this body. It’s hard, because giving up control means somehow dying.

But they still do it. They’ve done it multiple times before and finally _they let go._

She opens her eyes, watching the Master through tears on her eyelashes and can see the relief in his gaze when he finally looks at her.

“Doctor.”

She expects him to start mocking her, now that he has her back, the stupid _Doctor_ who just can’t stop loving him.

But he only pulls her in a hug.

She goes slack in his arms, unable to understand all the emotions that threatens to overwhelm her. Finally, the Master lets her go.

Afterwards an embarrassing silence stays between them.

And she wants to say something, she really wants to, but the realisation, that she still doesn’t know _who_ she is, prevents her from saying a single word.

“Doctor?” He asks calmly, but she can only stare at him, still mute for reasons she doesn’t understand.

And even though all the memories of long-gone lives are carefully sealed between new doors, the walls are thin and she can hear an echo of all the voices. Only the Doctor’s life is still there, and she knows, that what she lived through, that’s what she actually remembers.

But she still doesn’t feel as if the name belongs to her.

And so, she can only beg the Master silently to _help her._ She doesn’t even know how. And neither does he. But he still acts against his nature and stays with her. Somehow, she’s grateful for the presence of her best friend.

The Master starts talking a lot, continuing to tell about their life. With a sense of humour she completely forgot he had, he brings horrors to live until she’s silently giggling.

She had never known that _the year that never was_ could be that funny.

But the Master convinces her anyway. There’s a darkness in his eyes while he talks about it, but to her surprise, not even once he teases her with her failures.

They start to feel like _her_ failures again, not the failures another stranger made lifetimes ago.

One day she presses their foreheads together, carefully nudging at the Master’s mind and he lets her in without further asking.

She can feel his worry and is confused about it. But she can also feel his anger and hatred and that’s something she knows. She still feels bad that she’s the reason for it.

And she can also feel his love for her. Something that’s so hard to accept, but this time she allows is, shows him her feelings for him, too.

He stares at her as if she lost her mind. (Which she probably has, anyway.) “But –“

This time it’s the Master who flees the situation, leaving the room in a hurry.

By now she can stand on her own again, carefully stumbling through the room she spent weeks in by now. For the first time she actually realises, that the Master truly tried to make her comfortable.

The walls are in a gently orange and the ceiling is a perfect copy of the starry sky they used to watch on Gallifrey when they were still children, climbing on the roof of the Academy, talking about all the wonders out there.

The blanket on the bed is a giant rainbow. She smiles. And nearly feels like the Doctor again.

When the Master storms back in the room, she nearly looses her balance, stumbling clumsily until he carefully guides her to the ground.

“How…” He splutters. “How can you possible _love me_.” His voice is barely audible now. “After all I did – intentionally! – how? You’re the _Timeless Child_ , how can you do that?!”

He’s getting angry, his broken words now screams in the small room.

“Why?”

She can’t look at him. Because she knows, that a look in his soul will tell her everything she needs to know. She doesn’t know if she’s ready.

But as always, when she feels the Master falling apart next to her, it doesn’t matter if she’s ready. He _needs her_. How can she refuse?

Finally, she lifts her head, and looks him in the eyes. He has still the same eyes. Koschei’s eyes.

She manages to smile.

“Because I’m the Doctor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Please let me know if I forgot to tag anything.  
> This story developed a mind of its own. I hope you enjoyed, I would love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
